No One Knows
by Mrs. Malfoy-Cornell-Stryker
Summary: Draco seeks revenge against those who helped send his father to Azkaban. Ginny's father has gone astray; Draco seeks to take advantage of the situation--for his revenge. What happens when revenge turns into something unlikely? RR to find out.


A/N: Hello, there! I'm Mrs. Malfoy-Cornell-Stryker. If you must know, I wish to marry Draco, Chris Cornell from the band Audioslave, and a local that I know by the name of Stryker. I digress. Anyway, this is my first fan fiction in the longest time; I hope that you enjoy my work, because I promise that there is still more to come! Read and review, please!

Warm regards,

Mrs. Malfoy-Cornell-Stryker 

Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with J.K Rowling, these are all of her characters, although, I wish I owned a small fraction of her characters. Ah, I must digress sadly.

No One Knows

Chapter One

               The sun had long set towards the west; tranquility and nervousness had settled into Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. While most of the Weasley family rested, Ginny laid on her bed, with her brown eyes open wide with fear. It had been the third consecutive week that Ginny found herself suffering through restless nights; she was unable to sleep without a sense of foreboding dancing over her conscience. Worries constantly frolicked in her mind, as though they were devilish pixies that served no more than to pester; her family only made things worse. Her mother hardly spoke, and was usually found sniveling and muttering. Her brothers weren't that much of an improvement, for they were in a thick state of denial. Only she seemed to understand the current circumstances, while others were oblivious to the fact that her father was missing. Arthur Weasley had been missing for a total of three weeks; this came about right after the Order had sent Arthur on a secret mission to locate several escaped Death Eaters, who were imprisoned in Azkaban Prison —or at least, that was what Ginny overheard over a quarter's moon ago. Nevertheless, three weeks had flown by, and word from Arthur had yet to be sent.

               "Just protecting himself," Ginny thought, "right…. That's it, all right…. Oh Merlin, why doesn't anyone have any common sense? My father has gone astray, and he's probably in danger." Ginny couldn't take the denial anymore—it was sickening her. Shortly after her brief moment of disgust, Ginny got up from her bed and walked over to the small window that was just hither. She then quietly sat down on the cold ebony below her, and cradled herself into a fetal position; whereas she rocked herself back and fourth, whilst tears crawled down her pale cheeks. She hated it—the war—already the war had taken its victims; she couldn't bear to lose someone close to her. Yet it was foolish of her to be so selfish, because she had not suffered as much as some. "Poor Harry," she realized, "first your parents, and now Sirius…." She sat in the fetal position in which she rocked herself, as she thought quietly of all the possible torturous situations that her father was probably in. Without accord, she slowly let her eyelids close. Although her eyelids fluttered open with worry every other second, she slowly succumbed into a deep slumber.

               The following morning, the sun was aloft in the west. The sun's rays cascaded down onto the window and fell onto Ginny's pale face. Within seconds, Ginny's eyes fluttered open. Hastily, she got up from the floor and blinked wearily. "What time of day is it?" she asked herself, as she looked around the room for any sign of life. Ginny looked around the room and saw that movement had not taken place. Everything had been left as she had left it the night before. "I wonder if anyone's awake?" she asked herself, "Well, someone should be awake… on account of the fact that Harry was supposed to be picked up early this morning." Ginny stretched her arms up into the air, and yawned. Within seconds, she was able to hear movement coming from downstairs. Ginny quickly grabbed her jacket; she tried to slip on her shoes whilst she slipped her arms into the thick, velvety red jacket. She looked into the small mirror that hung near the door; and she gaped at her sleep-deprived state. Her hair looked dead; it was as though something had stabbed her and sucked the life and radiance of her very being, while her face got paler and paler as the days passed her by. In addition, her brown eyes were tired, and a little red due to the tears she had shed ere the sun had risen. She looked around frantically for a brush. When she finally found the brush she had searched for, she quickly combed her hair. The smooth bristles raced through her strands of hair, which helped her calm down slightly.

               Without a moment to spare, Ginny rushed down the stairs quietly and saw that her mother was already up. She had started to cook breakfast when Ginny caught notice of her. Mrs. Weasley turned whither and smiled blankly at her daughter,

               "Morning, dear," she muttered quietly.

               "Morning," replied Ginny.

               Mrs. Weasley stood silent for a minute, while she scrambled the eggs that cooked on the pan.

               "Sit down dear, breakfast will be ready in a minute,"

               Ginny nodded, "Any word from…"

               "Your father? I'm afraid not dear, but, like I said before… it's all for his own safety and ours."

               Ginny grimaced slightly, "Where are the others?" she asked, in hopes to change the subject.

               "They went to pick up Harry…. School's almost starting you know."

               "And my father hasn't arrived yet,"

               "He will… shortly,"

               Ginny pouted silently, "If he's all right," she whispered desperately.

               "What was that?"

               Ginny tried to calm herself, "Don't you understand, mother? My father is out there, and how do we not know that he's all right—or even alive?"

               Mrs. Weasley looked away and concentrated on the eggs. An awkward silence fell the room; the only noise to be heard was the sound of scrambled eggs frying over a stove. Ginny couldn't believe it, how was it that no one paid attention to the fact that her father was possibly in danger? That maybe, just maybe, Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe, or who knows who might have her father hostage. As much as the subject infuriated her, Ginny sat as calmly as she could, while she waited for breakfast to be served.

               All the while, not far off in the rich country where grass grew verdantly, and where the fog would set in for an almost in-human serenity, lay the Malfoy Manor. While the manor had its elves already at work, Draco lay in his bed, with angry thoughts that stirred in his head. "How could this happen to my father?" he asked himself. He had spent a great deal of his summer vacation tormenting himself about his father's arrest. He was murderously angry with the one person who had caused him so much anger, and blank grief. However, everything had changed within the span of the last three weeks. According to what he heard, his father had escaped Azkaban, and all thanks to the incomprehensibly loyal dementors. He grinned at the thought of it, but digressed at the thought that if his father were caught once more, that it would bring tarnish to the family name—and most of all, himself.

               No matter what, his family would not suffer once more. He'd make sure of it. Instead, those who helped imprison his father would be the ones who'd have to pay the price. "It's not going to happen again," he said to himself, as he rose from his bed and reached for his classiest attire. As he slipped into his dress shirt, Draco eyed himself in the mirror. "I'll make all of them pay—Pothead and company—they'll wish that they never intervened with a Malfoy." He buttoned up his shirt and grinned maliciously at himself.

To be Continued…

A/N: Well that's it for now. Let me know what you think! Do you hate it so far, like it so far, do you wish to tackle me and mind out what's going to happen next? LET ME KNOW! In addition, if any of you, as readers, know me personally, I wish to keep my identity disclosed to the public. In other words, just address me by my screen name. Thank you,

Sincerely,

Mrs. Malfoy-Cornell-Stryker 


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